Alpha's Charms
by reaching past the stars
Summary: Everything is not what it seems in Westchester. Ever wonder how, exactly, that 7th grade girl got her paws on that limited edition Prada before you did? Magic. No, really. Follow along as the infamous Pretty Committee takes on the next challenge in their life; a magical school called Hogwarts. The boy who lived might not be the only celebrity in the wizarding world for long.
1. there's always a reason

**Hey everyone! Welcome to our brand new story; Alpha's Charms! This story is a HP/Clique story centered mainly around the drama that a magical clique would bring to Hogwarts. Written by nearly a half-score of writers, a diverse set of POV's is sure to keep you on your toes. If you can guess who wrote what section (list of writers below), you get extra brownie points!**

**Forgive us, but we know that this story rightfully belongs under the cross-over section. But, have you seen it there? It's sad.**

**So anyway, we'd rather keep our story out here; in the light, so we can get a nice reader fanbase before we are banished to the cold dungeon that is the crossover section. Who came up with that, anyway?**

**We sincerely hope you enjoy,**

**reaching past the stars**

**(splendeur, ailes du neige, xoxo Starry-eyed, Glittering Moonlight, keep calm and sparkle, Dancing When The Rain Falls, Fanficfanticgurl)**

ooo

* * *

**1.**

**The Block Estate**

**Westchester, New York**

**11:01 AM, July 30th**

"Breakfast, Massie!" Kendra Block's voice filtered out of the intercom. Massie paused at her computer, confused. Her family never had breakfast together. A few words shared in passing, at most. She usually just grabbed a LUNA bar, and called the meal done. Even on a sunday morning, the idea of brunch with her family was alien.

"Massie?"

"Co_ming_." Massie barked, angrily sliding on her bathrobe over her silk boyshorts and cami. She switched her IM status over to 'busy', and exited out of her pending video chat with the PC. Why did her mother always have such bad timing?

As she descended the stairs with bare feet, she noticed a quiet air in her house. Normally, her mother was bustling around, preparing for some big society party, or instructing Inez how to dust the china correctly. The house was eerily silent, however, and it set Massie's nerves on edge. She crept silently towards the kitchen, comforted by the click-clack of Bean's nails beside her.

Her parents were seated at the dining room table, a pitcher of orange juice sitting in between them. Oddly, her mother looked ecstatic, while William Block just looked a little tired and grumpy.

"Massie, you've received a letter." Kendra half-squealed, shoving a thick white envelope over the table. It came to rest, fluttering slightly, right on top of her plate.

"Who sends letters anymore? Your great-aunt?" Massie grumbled, as she reached forward to grab it. "Ew! Is this poo?" Eight little brown specks lined up perfectly on the top of the envelope.

"No, just claw marks from the ow-"

"William!" Kendra snapped from the corner of her mouth. "Let her find out for herself."

Massie watched the exchange, silent. When the scuffle was open, Massie ripped the letter open, half-heartedly pulling out a thick white sheet of paper. She rolled her eyes, and casually looked down at the paper.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**  
**of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**  
**_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_**  
**_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_**

**Dear Miss Block,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**  
**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**  
**Deputy Headmistress**

"What the hell is going on?" Massie looked up into her the eyes of her parents. They both looked away.

"I told you we shouldn't have given it too her." William's voice was low. Perhaps he thought she couldn't hear him.

"What else could we have done?" Kendra hissed back, while staring intently at the vase behind William.

"Not let her go of course. Let her be normal."

"But she's not normal. And they don't exactly let untrained witches be normal! The thought of one without training!" Kendra's voice reached a high pitch.

"Ex-ca-use me?" Massie slammed her fist down on the table. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." William rubbed his slightly-balding head. "The Block's are magical, Massie. And that's something you're going to have to live with. We leave for England in two weeks."

* * *

**The Block Guesthouse**

**Claire's Room**

**11:25 AM, July 30th**

"Mail's here!" Todd burped as he ran into Claire's room. Claire wrinkled her nose in disgust and popped another gummy worm in her mouth. She whirled around in her chair to face Todd.

"Eww, don't burp," Claire told him.

"Eww, don't burp," Todd mimicked.

Claire rolled her baby blue eyes. "Is there any mail for me?"

"Surprisingly, yes. You've become quite popular." Todd shoved a white envelope in her face, making her jump back and cover her face with her hands. The envelope fluttered to the floor.

"Don't do that. I could get a paper cut," Claire snapped. She bent down to pick up the envelope. She ripped it open with her teeth (out of habit) and retrieved a piece of paper. Just as she was about to begin reading, she felt hot Doritos breath on her shoulder. _Todd_.

"Ehmagawd, Todd! It's _my _letter!" Claire jerked the letter away and threw it face down on her bed. She pushed Todd towards the door. "Can you _puh-lease _get out?"

The corners of Todd's mouth curled into a smile. "Looks like you're learning from Massie Block. Speaking of her, can you get me her-"

"Out. Now." Claire pointed towards the door and tapped her foot impatiently. "Or else I'll tell mom that you snuck out of the house last week and-"

"Okay, okay, I'm going." Todd trudged out, defeated. Claire grinned triumphantly and shut the door behind him. She plopped down on her bed and slowly flipped the letter over.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**  
**of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**  
**_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_**  
**_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_**

**Dear Miss Lyons,**

**... abrv ...**

"Ehma-no way," Claire breathed. She always knew there was something special about her. She thought back to the time in third grade when Mrs. Adams had had an unscheduled doctor's appointment right before a big state test. Was that her fault? Could she have...? She remembered the look on Mrs. Adams' face when the office called to tell her that she had to go. She remembered how nervous she'd been for the test.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door, jolting Claire out of her thoughts. She quickly tucked the letter under her bed. "Come in!" she chirped.

Her parents, Jay and Judi, made their way in. "So I'm assuming you got the letter," Jay said.

Claire nodded. "Yeah, I got a letter." She took a deep breath. _In, out_. "Is it real? Do I really have magical powers?"

"Yes, yes, you do. And I do too." Jay paused for a second to let this sink in.

Claire gasped. "And you didn't tell me?"

"We wanted you to have a normal life, Claire bear," Judi said, putting her arm around Claire.

"Omigod, Mom, are you magical too?" Claire pulled away from her mom, astonished.

"Actually, no. I'm not."

"Oh," Claire said, disappointed. "So I'm only half? And what about Todd? Is he a wizard too?" The thought of Todd having magical powers made her feel faint.

"Probably," Jay mused. "Anyway, the point is, we're leaving for England soon."

"OMG." Claire clapped her hand over her mouth. "This is all so sudden."

"You're a witch, Claire Lyons. I'm a wizard. And you're going to Hogwarts."

* * *

**The Block Estate**

**Westchester, New York**

**12:07, July 30th**

"And then they were like, 'the blocks are a magical family' and 'you're going to have to deal with it.'" Massie ranted, hardly pausing for breath. "I hawnestly think they're on drugs."

Claire sat in silence, watching as Massie's braid slowly went from messy to unraveled.

"I swear to gawd, if they actually drag me all the way out to England for some imaginary school, I'm going to flip- and guess what? They apparently think owls will deliver things for them! They were all like, okay, we better send the owl back with the letter!"

Massie took a deep breath. "They are so delusional. There's no such thing as magic!"

"Massie." Claire said calmly. "I got a letter too."

* * *

**Riviera Mansion**

**Westchester, New York**

**11:07, July 30th**

Alicia was eating a chocolate Luna Bar while waiting for her best friends, the Pretty Committee, to log onto her AIM video chat. Briefly, massikur accepted, showed up, and then disappeared.

"ALICIA! COME DOWN! EEP!"

Alicia wondered, What was that frightened screaming about?

Alicia sighed but pulled on her slippers and walked down the stairs. Her maid was holding a broom and was being attacked by a...OWL!? A huge brown barn owl was flying around the kitchen. It was screeching, but the moment the thing saw Alicia, it fluttered over. It was holding a cream colored envelope. The bird dropped it onto her outstretched hand and flew away.

Alicia tore it open, maybe it was one of her friend's letters. This was a cool trend! Alicia took no notice of the red wax seal. It had a picture of a badger, snake, griffin and a raven.

Alicia caught sight of words like, Mugwump, Broomstick, Cauldron & acceptance at first glance. When she went back to read it completely, her jaw dropped.

Alicia began to laugh. This was one super funny joke. There was no such thing as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Suddenly the front door opened. There stood both of Alicia's parents.

Her parents were never home, much less at the same time. Her mom spoke first.

"Alicia dear, did you get a letter sent by an owl today?"

"Yep mom, It's just a joke isn't it?"

This time her dad answered her,

"No honey, it isn't. Your mom and I are magical. You are a witch."

"WHAT!? You guys are serious?"

"Yes, Alicia, we are. And we're leaving for London in two weeks. Take the time to say your goodbyes."

The full reality of the situation suddenly washed over Alicia. She was magical, aka probably a freak in Massie's book, and she was going to have to leave her best friends in the world to go to a stupid British boarding school. A whole new country!

* * *

**The Marvil Mansion**

**Westchester, New York**

**12:02, July 20th**

"Lunch-time, Dyl-pickles!" Dylan rolled out of bed, falling onto the floor with an _oomph, _and picked herself up again, before thinking about her mother's statement; it wasn't unusual for the Marvil family to have a meal together, especially if her dad had come home, or Jamie from college, but for Dylan to be included?

_Something was definitely up_, she suspected. Nonetheless, she shouted down the stairs, "_Coming! _Just give me five minutes," she complained, throwing together what seemed suitable for a lunch outfit.

Throwing together random clothes from her assortment of closets, Dylan ran down the stairs, her hair up in a messy bun, and nails still drying from a fresh coat of burnt sienna nail polish, which surprisingly went well with her flaming red hair. As soon as she got to the bottom of the staircase, Dylan regretted her actions, in particular, her choice of outfit.

"Oh, erm -hi," she muttered, snagging a cinnamon roll from the center of the table before running up the staircase, locking her bedroom door behind her, and sliding to the floor, her cheeks a similar color of her hair. _That went great, _she thought to herself, wondering out-loud why there was a strange old man sitting across from her mother; Merri-Lee Marvil, of course, had the strangest of guests, but this? This was taking it just a little too far.

Walking down the staircase after changing into something, anything, other than a fluffy pink bathrobe, Dylan crept down the staircase, trying to listen onto the conversation, but to no avail. The room was eerily silent, and Dylan wondered if her mother and the old man had finally left. Looking down a little farther, Dylan sadly realized that they hadn't.

There was an old man, bits and crumbs of bread stuck in his long, flowing beard, with a pair of blue and white robes that looked as though they belonged more to the sixteenth century rather than the twenty-first. What was even stranger was the fact that there were _owls, _perched on the peak of his hat, if she could even call it that much. "Um, hi, mom," Dylan said, becoming visible.

Her mother was dressed in a business suit, white lace on the top, and a black pencil skirt on the bottom, and fixed Dylan with a stern expression, as if she was always doing something wrong. Her taut pink lips pulled into a grim smile, "Good morning, Dylan. Please sit down."

Dylan awkwardly plopped into one of the chairs in the middle of the dining table, smack dab between the old beard man and her mother. "We have something to tell you," her mother began, looking down at the floor, rather anywhere than her own daughter.

"Yeah, mom? What's all the news?" The words came out in an incomprehensible manner, as they were said in between bites of the cinnamon roll, and sips of a fresh glass of orange juice; Dylan repeated herself once more.

Rather than speaking, Dylan's mother pushed a strange looking letter towards her; what was even stranger was the fact that the letter was addressed to _her. _Letters from nowhere and everywhere came for her mother: credit card, other bills, offers, promotions, agencies, advertising, etc. Dylan slowly opened the letter, unknowingly reading it out loud, rather than to herself.

After reading the letter, Dylan half-expected her mother to yell "April Fools!" even though it wasn't April 1st; it was June 1st. Or at least pull out a few cameras from the sides to film Dylan's reaction, perhaps posting it on the famous Daily Grind. She didn't expect her mother to look at her, as if she was supposed to say something. "What kind of practical joke is _this?" _Dylan spat, trying to stand up.

Instead, the chair seemed to grow vines from the sides, and wrap themselves around her small frame, as if she was permanently stuck to the chair. "This isn't a joke, Dylan. It appears as though," Dylan's mother took a moment, sighing. "You were adopted."

"_What?!_" Dylan screamed again; she wasn't one to take these situations very well, spilling her glass of orange juice to the floor, to which Dakota, her nanny, frowned to, starting to clean up the mess that stained the hardwood flair. "What do you mean, I'm adopted?" Dylan had always thought of that option, to signify why she had flaming red hair and her mother, Jamie, and Ryan all had straight, brown tresses, but had never thought that her assumption was actually true.

"You're part of a magical family, the Parkinson's," the old beard man spoke up. His voice had a certain lilting tone, that was supposed to be used to calm Dylan; however, it did quite the opposite.

She fainted.

* * *

**The Gregory's Apartment**

**Westchester, New York**

**9:23 PM, July 30th**

Kristen watched as the arguing silhouettes of her parents danced across the walls. "What the Hell Marsha! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't find it very important." Marsha Gregory's fragile voice echoed off the walls, shaky but firm. Kristen's grip on the door handle tightened until her knuckles were white. Eavesdropping was never something she was proud of but she just _needed _to know what they were talking about. Beckham purred and brushed against Kristen's ankles, earning a stern '_shh!_' from her.

Her father's voice, deep and gruff, escalated with anger. "By God, Marsha! You need some serious help! All these 'magic folk' are _completely insane_! Pah! Witches! Good god. You're _very_clever! Thinking you'd turn me crazy as well! Along with _my_ daughter! She doesn't need you to influence her."

Marsha stayed calm though. "If you're done ranting I would like to-"

"Ranting?!" Mr. Gregory's arms flew up into the air. "This isn't ranting, this is trying to stop you from sending our daughter," he chuckled that chuckle that shows how ridiculous he thinks she is. "who-knows-where!"

Softly closing the door behind her, Kristen surreptitiously snuck over to the entry of the kitchen. They continued with their dispute, not acknowledging her presence. After 10 seconds, she spoke up. "Mom, what's this about?"

"Don't interrupt-" her father began, just to be intercepted by Marsha, who practically dove to hug her daughter.

"Oh sweetie, we've been meaning to tell you something," she squeezed Kristen a tad too tightly. Pulling away, Marsha looked at her daughter, holding her at arms length. A grin swept across Marsha's chapped, pale lips before she spoke again. "Well, I think you should read this first."

Taking her right hand off of Kristen's shoulder, Marsha took a tiny envelope from the back of her jean pockets and slipped it into Kristen's palms. "Well go on," she urged. "Open it already!"

Gingerly analyzing the little pocket's front side, Kristen read the address.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**  
**of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**  
**_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_**  
**_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_**

Quizzically glancing from her mother to the envelope, she slid the letter out. Inked with a fancy script, Kristen had to squint to read it correctly. She noticed that the envelope had the same writing but because this was significantly smaller, it was all the more difficult.

**Dear Miss Gregory,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**  
**Deputy Headmistress**

As the letter had entailed, a shopping list was included. But she didn't bother trying to read every detail. "Um...What? It's not even near Halloween. Why are you trying to pull a joke like this?"

Marsha frowned in confusion. "I'm not pulling any tricks. Watch"

The 11 year old girl was about to ask what she meant when Marsha took a wand out of thin air and flicked it in the direction of the table. The once barren wood surface was now covered with photos, albums and wrinkled newspaper articles. The pictures were filled with students wearing black robes or were images of a magnificent stone castle. Even the articles were labeled with the 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' title. "Whaaa-" Kristen's eyes widened.

"Kristen, dear." Marsha's eyes softened as she turned to her daughter. "You see, I'm not lying. This is real. You come from a line of pure-bloods. But, of course, your father is a Muggle."

"Muggle?" Kristen's head tilted to the side, her thin blonde hair falling with it.

"Someone without magic. 'Normal' if you will," Marsha answered before continuing. "So you're a half-blood."

"Oh," her face fell.

"But it doesn't make you any less special!" she adds quickly. Kristen shrugs and turns to her father. Mr. Gregory was staring at the table in awe. She knew very well that he didn't believe any of this nonsense, but he certainly had to now. "Start packing, we'll be leaving for England soon."

And Marsha disappeared around the corner.

* * *

ooo

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**Next chapter: Let's see who the magical ****_boys _****are. Any guesses?**


	2. a half, a pure & an unexpected

**Hi everyone! Thanks for the positive reviews!**

**This chapter covers the boy's POV's. No one guessed right!**

**Haha. Not one direction, but nice guess.**

**Enjoy, and make sure to leave a review with the listed feedback questions when you're done!**

**(reaching past the stars)**

* * *

Cameron, or Cam, as he was recently preferring to be called, was sitting at the edge of his chair, at a diner in the lower half of Manhattan. It was sunny outside, and he had planned to spend the day with one of his friends, perhaps testing out that new video game or playing another game of soccer on the rugged, overgrown fields of Briarwood High. Instead, he had been dragged into some sort of supervision role of Sammi Harrington's fifth birthday party, moping as he cleared up the mess of coffee that had dribbled down his chin.

He cast a glance at the children beside him, letting out a sigh as he remembered how he used to be like them: young and childish, meanwhile ignoring the fact that he was still only eleven years young. Scribbling a few words into his notepad, Cam sets down the empty coffee glass onto the counter, with a few dollars and tips to pay the bill and waitress, who somehow took the opportunity to flirt with him, and threw her phone number out in the trash.

Cameron Fisher had always had the bad habit of trying to act _cool._

So far, though, his ploy was working; recently, he had just snagged the exclusive friendship of the travel soccer league, that had been undefeated...ever since last Friday against the third graders from Oklahoma. To be fair to the Briarwood Boys, as they called themselves (maybe 'cause nobody really had heard of them, to make the "team" their own nickname), those third graders were cheaters.

Big. Fat. Cheaters.

"Hey, lighten up, already," Derrick grinned, catching up to Cam, who hastily shoved the Moleskin journal into one of the pockets of his leather jacket, and the pencil into his shoe, putting on what he hoped seemed like a carefree grin. Derrick raised an eyebrow, and Cam reverted himself back to his original nature, glaring at Derrick, who only rolled his eyes at him. "Fine, I'm sorry for making you look stupid by supervising at my sister's birthday party -but then again, you look stupid everyday-," Derrick snickered. "-in front of the whole town. Happy?"

Cam only walked a little quicker, down the busy Manhattan street.

"Shut it, Harrington."

When he wakes up the next morning, the sky is shining.

Cam stretches his arms out, and blinks open his eyes, feeling as though the sun is shining right down into his blue-green eyes; it feels like the utmost form of pure, and perfect happiness. He scribbles a few thoughts down in his journal ('cause that's what cool kids do), and tore his sheets off, eventually getting out of the blissful state of sleep, still feeling a little groggy.

Walking over the mirror, he brushed his teeth, and put a little gel in his hair, to make it "flop" the right way; he wasn't sure why it was too important, but Derrick said "it was for the ladies". Basically, that was somehow important.

There's a rap on the door, though -_knock, knock, knock._

"Uh, who is it?" His voice is kind of rough, and the question comes out like Cam's a little, itty-bitty, and whiny kid (which, of course, he is anything _but._). He tries to take the gel out of hair (his action is of no avail), because instead of getting that "cool kid" look, Cam just looks like a knock-off version of Danny Zuko, and of course, there's nothing worse than being a "wannabe".

Really, Cam has no clue where Derrick gets this "cool-kid phrases" from. He smirks, coming to the answer: Massie. He looks outside, for a moment, as if he's trying to entrance himself in some sort of daydream, because right outside his house, is a sycamore tree; it's tall and kind of narrow at the bottom, and it's probably the scrawniest tree in all of Westchester.

When he was young, Cam built in a treehouse.

Well, it was more of like his dad built a treehouse for him, but Cam pretended like he did all the hard work, because that's what cool kids actually do, and it was almost like a "meeting" place for three best friends: Cameron Fisher, Massie Block, & Dylan Marvil. Cam pretty much fell out of contact with the two girls after he turned around seven, and the treehouse was dismantled.

"Cameron Fisher!" Cam suddenly heard a crash downstairs, and gulped. Even though he was a cool kid, it didn't stop his mom from probably grounding him until he was thirty years old. "Come. Down. Here. Right. Now!"

Cam sighed, annoyed with this greasy mess that his hair had turned into, and wished that he had never tried to put on the hair gel in the first place, and threw on a rugged pair of jeans and a hand-me-down leather jacket over a plain white shirt (yeah. Cam really looked like Danny Zuko, right now.). Running down the staircase, and falling down on his knee, Cam toppled onto the hardwood floor, wincing, as his knee made the hard impact, and couldn't resist the urge to swear.

"Cameron Alexis Fisher!" his mother scolded, frowning a little as she realized what a mess that Cam had made with both the hardwood floor and his previously flat black hair. Composing herself, she motioned Cam towards the breakfast table, where there was a pitcher of orange juice, a few boxes of cereal, and some empty bowls next to their corresponding silver spoons, a new addition to the Corelle kitchen set. "Come eat breakfast."

"Nah, mom," he shrugged. "I'm gonna catch up with Derrick and Josh, later today." Grabbing an orange from the center of the table, and nearly knocking down the orange juice, Cam tried to leave the room, before seeing something that caught his eye.

On a normal day, Cam would have just left, ignoring the "something that had caught his eye", and today should have been no difference, until his mom shoved the item of interest into his hands: it was a letter. The funny thing was that it wasn't addressed to him; instead, it was addressed to Camilla Lexi Fisher. Ripping the envelope open, Cam groaned, knowing that this was probably just another joke from some jerk, or his friends (weren't they practically the same, exact thing, though?). "Mom. I don't really ca-"

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**  
**of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**  
**_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_**  
**_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_**

**Dear Ms. Fisher,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**  
**Deputy Headmistress**

He started laughing, until his mom looked down at him (which was quite an impressive feat considering that she was already two inches shorter than him), frowning, and snatched the orange out of his hands. "This isn't fine, Mister. You're a _wizard_," his mother spat, as if this was some sort of grievance, not a bloody joke.

"This is a joke, Mom," he said, in between bouts of laughter. "It isn't anything to cry over." He tried reaching for the cereal, but his mother took that away too; Cam raised an eyebrow. He knew his mom could sometimes get a little paranoid about jokes and things like that, but for how long would she have to overreact? He needed to go fix his hair.

"You're a wizard."

And, for some strange reason, as an owl came swooping into the room, and snatched the letter out of his hands, creating a burst of flames in which there was previously milk which also set his hair on fire, along with the fact that his leather jacket had been torn to shreds, Cam believed her.

* * *

**The Harrington Estate**

**Westchester, New York**

**8:06 AM, July 30th**

Sammi's blaring alarm clock awoke Derrick for the fifth time that morning. He threw his covers to the side, fed up with the annoying '_Hoot_' from the owl clock. He didn't care if she was too excited for her birthday party later to breathe or sleep for that matter, there was no way his 11 year old body could sustain being awake for so long. On the other hand, it made his head ache to think of her cursed room and those glassy eyes watching his every move...oh, and the plastic Owl's eyes too. Yes, his little sister happens to be going through an 'owl' stage.

Soundlessly making his way down the hall, he threw open his sister's door and prepared himself to face a grumpy birthday-Sammi. But she was sound asleep and her alarm wasn't on. The '_hoot'_persisted, a pulsating rhythm that trilled on through his head and ate away into his mind. He raised an eyebrow at his sister's sleeping figure but shrugged and closed her door quietly.

_If it isn't her clock, what is it? _Derrick pondered as he slipped down the grand staircase, hoping he was stealthy enough not to wake a soul. Not that it would matter anyway. God knows that the obnoxious sound would have aroused the neighborhood by then. He rubbed his puffy brown eyes, tired out of his mind. Dragging himself across the foyer in a sleepless daze, it's no surprise that he didn't notice the Barn Owl fluttering around the lofty space. And of course he looked up just as it released it's excrement onto his face.

His mouth agape in shock, he swiped a hand across the dung and flung it to the floor-but not before spitting all over the tile. Feet scuffing the marble, he walked backwards to the intercom, still keeping a watchful eye on the bird. "Mini, Mini are you there?" he begs, pressing the button over and over again.

Finally, her withering voice came on. "Derrick, what's wrong?"

"There's a bird in the house!"

There was a long pause. Eventually though, the static came back. "I'll notify your parents. Don't worry, we'll handle it," she assured him but it didn't calm his nerves. _why is there an owl in the house?!_

But instead of investigating further, he crawled back up the stairs and down the hall to his room with his head slumped forward. Sleep is bliss.

...

He didn't realize that he would sleep straight to the time of the party. By then, his parents were too rushed with the stress of it all to explain a thing. The Harrington's stood in the fanciest restaurant in Westchester. "Now Derrick, be sure to be on your best behavior," His mother warned, relaxing her left hand on her shoulder and pointing one stern finger on her right. "That means no tricks on your sister's friends."

"Alright, alright," he rolled his eyes and held his arms up in surrender. "I won't do _anything._ Besides, Cam will be here if that helps."

Mr. Harrington folded his arms and gazed down at his son. "Yes, Cam is a little more responsible than you. I'm sure this will do quite nicely."

"Blah-blah-blah. Who cares about responsibility anyway?" Derrick muttered to himself as he walked over to a secluded table in the far corner of the restaurant. He watched as his five year-old sister greeted her friends. The little girl had her blonde hair up in pigtails tied with bows and wore a frilly pink dress. Across the way, his parents were reading a letter with intent flickering in their eyes. Suddenly, he was being beckoned over. Groaning, he slid out of his seat and walked over to them.

Mr. Harrington was first to speak. "Derrick. We weren't very sure if this was the right decision but it's time."

Derrick slowed his pace and glanced around the room. "What is it time for?"

He looked at his mother. She had her head tucked down almost guiltily. "Time for you to know. Derrick, you're a wizard."

Keeping a straight face for as long as he can, Derrick held his breath to the point where his face turned purple.

* * *

"Joshua! You have a letter!" Josh groaned, ignoring his mother as a blaring Game Over flashed across the screen of his new PSP. Stupid game. The PSP had been a gift from his grandparents, along with various other imported treats and cool stuff, generally from England.

Unlike other families, Josh's was pretty strange; he was well aquatinted with his father's family but a large portion of his mother's family was still unknown to him (apparently living in Australia?) and hearing from her parents was surprising, not to mention slightly mysterious. But...by what he'd learnt, his grandparents were lounging by stacks and stacks and stacks of money. So as long as they were generous and giving, Josh was pretty much fine with everything.

Beep. The sound turned his attention back to the game and a few clicks later, Josh was back on track against Manchester United.

"Josh!" The sound of footsteps were coming closer and closer and something told him mom wouldn't be too happy to see her son fooling around when he promised her he would be doing homework. Sighing, Josh thew a curtain over the TV, tossed his controls under his bed, fell back on the couch, grabbing a random book along the way. The door flew open, and his mother floated in, an eerie smile on her face as she beamed at her oldest son.

"Your letter, honey." She tossed him a bland envelope, the words Mr. Hotz inked in emerald green.

Josh let the envelope fall to floor, still irked by his loss of game time. "It's 2013, mom. Don't they know about emails? Or Facebook? Twitter? Tumblr? Instagram? Anything?"

Mrs. Hotz only sighed in response, crossing her arms primly and looking down in defeat, the previous light in her eyes fading slightly; something which caused Josh to feel guilty instantly. "Sorry. I'll read it." He ripped open the envelope, his messy hands leaving orange-dust stain marks on the letter. It was pretty long, lines and lines of loopy, slightly slanted handwriting. Not printed.

Josh blinked and returned back to letter, his eyes scanning the words for the third time. Nope. It still said Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After two more tries, he grew frustrated and glowered at his mother who looked positively ecstatic, almost bouncing with joy. "So?"

"What is this? Some kind of practical joke?" The paper crumpled slightly under his tight grip. "Please tell me you didn't make me loose my game for nothing."

"No, of course not." His mother sighed. "You're a wizard, honey."

"I'm a _what_?"

"A wizard." She repeated.

"Oh great, now my mother's gone completely senile." Josh mumbled. "What the hell will the guys on the soccer team think? I've already switched schools twice in one year."

"They won't think anything at all." Mrs. Hotz answered. "They're wizards too, after all."

"What?!" Josh shifted his weight.

"See, I'm good friends with the Harringtons. That's why we moved here. We were expecting the letters."

"You're not kidding? Derrick... we're _magical?"_

A nod from his mother was all he needed to settle that question. Problem was, there were still several hundred bouncing around in his head.

"Anyway, we leave for London on the 13th. Enjoy the time you have left in Westchester." His mother added. If Josh had not been dazed by the news, he may have noticed the screech of a passing owl, already back en route to Hogwarts. His future school. His future home. His future, period.

* * *

**How did you like that one? Was it good?**

**Here's the list of who wrote what on the last chapter. Check your answers!**

**Massie & Massie/Claire - splendeur**

**Alicia - fanficfanticgurl**

**Dylan - Ailes Du Neige**

**Claire - keep calm and sparkle**

**Kristen - xoxo Starry-eyed**

**This chapter?**

**Cam - Ailes Du Neige**

**Derrick - xoxo Starry-eyed**

**Josh - dancing when the rain falls (finished by splendeur)**

* * *

**Feedback!**

**- Are the chapters too long, too short or okay?**

**- Who was your favorite POV of this chapter?**

**(r .. p .. t .. s)**


	3. a slightly eventful trip to starbucks

**STARBUCKS**

**Westchester, New York**

**4:30 PM, July 30th**

"Do we have to?" Claire Lyons pouted. Telling the girls that she and Massie got into a prestigious british "boarding" school together would only put another degree of separation between their relationship. There were already too many to list, and adding another might just send the stack toppling over and end their friendships. It was teenage girl nature to get jealous, and the fact that your best friend & the semi-outcast are leaving the country together certainly qualified as reason enough.

"No. Let's leave the country in the middle of the night and nawt tell them." Massie scoffed. "Of course we're telling them. They're _our_ best friends."

"I just don't understand why we can't tell them we're magical."

"My mom says muggles aren't supposed to know about magic." Massie pushed the glass entrance doors open, welcoming a blast of cool cinnamon-scented air conditioning out into the warm air. Even equipped with her cute khaki shorts and multicolor Miu Miu knit top, the heat was unforgiving on her hair. She quickly lifted a hand to smooth the kinks out.

"Is there any chance they could be magical too?"

"Zeee-ro." Massie breathed, shocked at Claire's ignorance. "Didn't your parents tell you? There are like, so few magical people in the western world. They hate america. So they stay away."

"Leesh's parents are from spain!" The blonde came back with a sharp retort.

"Have you _seen _a spanish wizard?" Massie sighed. Claire parted her lips, about to snap that she hadn't seen a wizard, ever, when Massie spotted Alicia in a booth at the back of the cafe and drifted off.

"Hey!" The latina waved them over.

"Hola!" Massie giggled as she slid into the seat beside Alicia.

"So why are we here?" Alicia asked, pursing her lips. "I had to leave jazz early for this, you know."

"We have an announcement." Massie said lazily, casually picking up a latte from the group of four in the center.

"Really?" Alicia's brown eyes widened. "I kind of have an announcement too."

"No way." Claire widened her eyes at Massie. _It could happen!_ her blue eyes seemed to say. In response, Massie gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"Major?" Massie added onto Claire's statement, just so she could seem interested. Honestly, she loved her friends, but she was going to have new magical friends soon, and maybe even a new Pretty Committee.

"Yeah, kinda." Alicia glanced at the door, a warm glow expanding on her cheeks. "Dyl and Kris are here." She was quick to add. _It's so awkward Has the PC already began to shun me? _Alicia thought.

"Hi!" Dylan bustled forward, overtaking Kristen.

Kristen rolled her eyes as she caught up with Dylan, who was heaving breathlessly. "Seriously, Dyl, it's not a race. We all-"

Dylan waved her off with her hand. "But I have a _humongous_ announcement to make!"

Claire looked at Alicia and Dylan. "What? So we all, minus Kristen, have announcements?" She looked at Massie with a glint in her eye.

Massie shoved Claire playfully. "Ahem. Leesh, you can go first."

"Wait! I have an announcement too!" Kristen paused the conversation, nervously un-braiding and re-braiding her hair. Her blue-green eyes widened, staring straight at Massie.

"Okay?" The alpha looked around confused. Almost never did everyone in the clique have something huge to tell everyone else at the same time. "I have an idea. Let's go around and rate how important our news is 1-10."

"10." Alicia said immediately.

"10!" Dylan and Kristen cried.

"10. Not life or death, but serious." Claire answered for the two of them.

"Okay. Let's just... um... say it, I mean, them all together?"

Taking a deep breath, every girl prepared herself to spill what she thought was the most important secret since like, ever.

"I'm moving to england... Me and Massie are going to a english boarding school... Claire and I are going to a school in London... I'm spending the rest of my school years in europe." Everyone mumbled.

"I'm MAGICAL!" Dylan cried, over the cacophony of voices. Everyone looked at her with a mixture of shock and curiosity clear in their eyes.

"So, this morning-"

"You got a letter." Massie's voice was hushed. "We all got the letter, didn't we?" Claire was too shocked, too gleeful to even punch Massie.

"No, actually, first, this creepy old man showed up in my house-"

"You're kidding me. You got _the _letter." Kristen stared intently at the girls, obviously trying to convey something words can't."

"The one having to do with what Dylan just shouted?" Massie monotoned. "Then, yes."

"Whoops."

Kristen pulled out her phone, obviously not comfortable with saying more out-loud.

**SexySportsBabe: Hogwarts. The letter?**

**Massikur: wht r u tawking abt**

**Massikur: jk**

**Clairebear: yes, u?**

**Holagurl: obvious much? yes... owl was attacking my maid earlier today, delivered letter for me**

**bigredhead: same! w/o maid part tho**

**Massikur: so that's wht my parents were tlking abt!**

**Massikur: we can talk out loud again.**

"So, when are you guys leaving?" Claire proposed the question, stirring her latte with a happy glint in her eye. She didn't have to leave her other best friends behind. Life was good.

Alicia pulled out an itinerary from her oversized hobo. "The thirteenth. Eleven PM."

"Same!" Claire looked utterly shocked by the coincidence. Massie rolled her eyes. Would the girl ever be able to think on her feet?

After all, she was a witch. When was she going to start acting like it?

* * *

**Who typed this? Guess!**

**So anyways, the next few chapters will be pre-hogwarts, with the probable time of sorting around chapter 8 or 9.**

**Who do you think deserves to be in what house?**

**Reaching for the Stars**

**(thanks for all the awesome reviews!)**


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